


The Return

by Zer0Virago



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Elliott is a flirt but also embarrassed, Elliott's decoys are flirts too obviously, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I suck at summaries and tags and all that jazz, Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Sexual Tension, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26325991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zer0Virago/pseuds/Zer0Virago
Summary: Elliott returns home after his first season in the games, and runs into an old friend. Or, more than friend.
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt's Decoys/Reader, Mirage | Elliott Witt/Reader, Mirage | Elliott Witt/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	1. The Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I started writing this over a year ago and haven't really done much with it, but I wanted to finally post it somewhere. So here we go. I also started this before I knew really any lore about Apex, so there's stuff in here that is totally not canon. For example, in this story I was imagining that the legends really only get to go home at the end of a season, rather than every day. So Mirage and the others aren't at the bar every night. Also, Mirage has let a guy named Duke be the acting manager/owner while he's gone pretty much, sooooo don't get too tripped up on that. He's only mentioned in passing. Anyway, let's hope these inconsistencies don't burden your experience too much!
> 
> Also, this story is written in third person but it's Mirage x Female!Reader as I've tried to keep everything pretty general. I've never posted to this site before so I hope that I'm doing things right, please be patient with me. Thank you!

The door opened smoother than he remembered, though the knob felt the same in his hand. The chatter inside the building immediately gave him a sense of comfort, and he strolled over to the bar in familiar footsteps. No one stopped him as he walked, and he felt slightly relieved. He knew why people came here, all consumed in their own conversations, barely paying attention to the rest of the world, but just enough to order another drink. Except when the games were on. But, well, he'd never been here to witness that.

"Hey, stranger."

The voice made his head turn quickly; he was not expecting to see that smile across the counter.

"About time I got to see you from this side of the bar," she continued, giving him a friendly smile. Friendly. It made his heart ache in more than one way.

"Hey," he breathed, and a pause hung in the air. Usually, he would be able to lay on his charm without skipping a beat, but seeing her bartending was more than unexpected. "What are you doing here?"

The laugh that left her lips made him relax, and he leaned against the bar with a small smile.

"Turns out you leaving was the best thing to ever happen to me," she joked, and when she saw his smile falter she hit him lightly with her rag. "I'm kidding, El. When you left Duke needed another bartender -- as if I could ever replace you -- and he offered me a job since I already spent so much time in here anyway. But don't worry, if you ever decide to return to a lowly life of bartending I'm sure Duke wouldn't protest. Now," she hummed, setting down the glass she'd been cleaning and leaning against the bar on both forearms, "shouldn't _I_ be asking _you_ what you're doing here, mister legend?"

He grimaced, looking away and flicking a peanut shell off the counter. "Please don't call me that."

"Why not? I thought you loved all the fame the games gave you." She knitted her eyebrows together, studying him.

His gaze snapped back to her and he shook his head, a few of his curls falling in front of his eyes. "I do. I just don't like hearing _you_ say it."

She scoffed, picking up the glass again to give her something to do with her hands so she could resist the temptation to push his hair out of his face. "Surely you've earned the title. You've got over a hundred championships under your belt."

"Yeah, but…" he rubbed his hand along his jaw with a sigh, and her eyes became hyper-focused on the way his fingers scratched over his beard. "I don't like sounding like I'm any better than you."

"We both know you are. I'm here bartending, and you --"

"Oh, don't try and pull that bullshit. You could've gone to the games. You could've gone way before I left. You could've come with me!" It felt like the entire bar went quiet and he turned away, angrily running his fingers through his hair and clearing his throat to cut through the silence.

She put the glass down again but kept it in her grip. "Elliott, can we not talk about this, please?" she said quietly.

He dropped his gaze for a moment and sighed before taking the time to look around the room. "The bar looks good," he mused lowly, changing the subject, "you guys make some upgrades?"

The question made her smile, and she finally grabbed a new glass to pour him a drink. _Good. Push the memories away, let them die down as quickly as they came back._ "Don't try to be humble, everyone knows you've been sending a portion of all your winnings back here." She pushed the drink over to him, and her stomach did a small flip when his fingers brushed against hers as he took it.

He took a long pull of the amber liquid, the burn in his throat almost enough to distract him from the burn on his fingertips where they'd touched her. He leaned back with a proud smirk. "What can I say? I had to give something back to the place that did so much for me. Besides, it's still mine, you know. You'd better not be starting me a tab." He smirked.

"There's the charm," she quipped, flashing a smile at him as she went back to her fruitless cleaning.

He turned back to her with a grin and downed the rest of his drink. "You know you love it," he purred.

"Never said I didn't," she retorted, though her voice was softer now. She dropped her gaze to see his fingers tracing the rim of the glass she was cleaning, much like he used to do when he occupied her side of the bar. "Old habits die hard, huh?" she questioned, but when she looked up her heart skipped a beat. He was closer now, much closer, and his gaze was boring intensely into hers.

_Stop. Push the memories away. You're both different now._

"That they do."

_Fuck_.

He didn't hesitate in leaning in to close the distance between them, and he brushed his lips gently over hers. When she didn't pull away, he continued, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

"Elliott," she sighed into his mouth, the feeling of his lips on hers both comforting and scaring her at the same time.

"Shh," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. "I missed you."

She so badly wanted to say she missed him too, but she hated being vulnerable, even with him. Instead, she kissed him again, realizing she'd forgotten exactly what his lips felt like, and she hoped she would never forget it again.

Would never have to.

Her hand fisted his shirt when he began to pull away. "Hey," she breathed, and she finally opened her eyes to look at him. "Don't you dare think about leaving without saying goodbye this time."

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"I like her," a voice chimed from beside them, causing her to pull away with a gasp. "Can we keep her?"

She studied the owner of the voice in shock, her puzzled state causing her to miss the way Elliott rolled his eyes with a small scowl.

On the bar beside them sat, well, Elliott. Or one of his decoys, rather, as evident by the faint blue glow that surrounded him -- and the fact that the _real_ Elliott was still standing across the bar from her. Other than that, it was an extremely convincing decoy. No wonder Elliott was able to "bamboozle" so many people in the arena.

"No, we cannot _keep_ her, she's a person!" the real Elliott exclaimed, exasperated.

"That's not what I meant," the decoy groaned, rolling his -- its? -- eyes in the exact same fashion as Elliott had before. "I'm just saying you should hop on that," he hummed, nonchalantly sipping on a beer that had just apparated.

"Oh my god, would you just shut up? Why are you even here right now?" Elliott grunted, reaching out to swat at the decoy which just disappeared with a laugh, reappearing on the other side of them on the bar.

Now, she wasn't a stranger to the notion of Elliott's decoys. She'd watched enough of his matches to know how advantageous they were in a fight, but there was something about having two Elliotts, one laying the charm on thick, and the other -- the real one, no less -- seemingly embarrassed by it, that made her cheeks tingle with heat.

"Wow, El, I can't believe you were able to create a decoy with more charm than yourself," she teased, trying to hide how flustered the whole situation was making her.

"Wha- I- I didn't- he's _me_!" Elliott sputtered, snapping his head back toward her so fast she feared he might give himself whiplash.

"Whoa, hold up, I am _not_ you," the decoy countered, pointing his beer bottle accusatorily at Elliott.

She raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth between Elliott and the decoy. "Well who are you then?" she questioned.

The decoy leaned back, seeming to ponder the question. After all, he'd never been asked that before, and quite frankly it wasn't in his programming to have an answer ready.

"Well, I'm Elliott, but I'm different," he began, drumming his fingers against the side of his bottle. He looked at her with an intensity that matched Elliott's and she had to look away for a moment. "I was designed to be intuitive, so I keep learning, but I process data differently than he does. And I'm a quick learner," he drawled with a wink, causing the rosy color to return to her cheeks.

"Jeez, would you just dis-dispa-disapp- just go away already?" Elliott seethed, a hint of jealousy lacing his words. The decoy vanished with a laugh, leaving behind a cloud of blue light and pixels that slowly faded away.

"Well that was… something," she laughed, reaching up to tie her hair back away from her face and neck, her whole body suddenly feeling very hot from the encounter. "Why do you look so embarrassed? I thought you used your decoys to pick up girls here all the time."

Elliott leaned his elbows on the bar with a sigh, shaking his head. "I used to. Not anymore," he mumbled, drawing shapes in the condensation on his glass.

"Why not?" she pressed, suddenly curious as to what had changed. While she'd never been flirted with by two Elliotts at once, she knew that plenty of girls had been.

"I dunno. I guess I just spend too much time training and fighting now," he lied, trying to brush it off as nothing.

She frowned, picking up his glass and then sliding a coaster beneath it as the water started to drip onto the bar. "Oh, c'mon, El. We both know you're not that lame. Is it true that your decoys are solid? Like they'd join you with girls in bed?" she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"Stop that." He grimaced. "Why are you asking me that? Why are you acting like we never… like we weren't… you know?" he mumbled, unable to bring himself to say it and think back to that time.

_Push the memories away._

"Hey, you're the one that never even let me _meet_ your decoys. It's not my fault that I'm curious." She frowned.

Elliott shook his head and looked away from her. He hated the way she was talking to him as if they were just old friends and never anything more. The truth was, he never wanted to be like that with her. Sure, he wanted to be suave and charming, but not fake. With her, it was never an I'll-spend-one-night-with-you-and-then-see-ya-when-I-see-ya, no-strings-attached situation. It was always real. He wanted to see her again and again, just to spend time with her, not only for sex. When he was with her he could see them together for a long time. But he blew it. Big time.

"Hey," she urged gently, "where'd you go? We can drop it, okay? You don't have to tell me." She wiped her hands and gave him a gentle smile.

* * *

She'd forgotten how much of a drinker he could be.

No, scratch that. She hadn't forgotten, she just thought her imagination had exaggerated her memories.

It hadn't.

She watched him, seemingly lost in thought, as she went to work pouring the new drink he'd requested.

"Let me buy you a drink," he hummed, drumming his fingers on the surface of the bar. It was new. When he was still here the wood was beaten up and splintered in multiple places. Now it was a gorgeous dark grain, covered in a sheer glossy finish.

She shook her head, not at all surprised by the remark. "You charmer. You've used that line on me before."

He shrugged, taking a swig of the new drink she'd made him. "And? It was a sus-susc- it worked, didn't it?"

This time she couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her lips; she'd always had a soft spot for the way he stumbled over his words. "It did work, but you know very well I could pour myself a free drink right now, and you know Duke would kick my ass for drinking on the job."

He scoffed. "Well, I would kick Duke's ass. This is still my bar, no matter how much of a power trip he might be on. Besides," he hummed, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the bar, "rules were meant to be broken, weren't they?" he drawled with a smirk.

"Mmm, and where has that mindset gotten you, El?" she raised an eyebrow, returning his smirk with one of her own.

The grin that spread across his face made her heart feel fuzzy, and he leaned back, almost spilling his drink as he stretched his arms out in his Mirage-like fashion. "All the way to legend status, baby!" he boasted, probably a little too loudly for attempting to keep a low profile. 

She rolled her eyes and shook her head yet again. "Well, I'd very much like to keep my job, so you'll just have to wait until I'm off," she chuckled, throwing her rag at him which he caught against his chest with a warm laugh.

He leaned against the bar again, sliding the rag back. "I'd wait forever for you," he mused with a smile that was far beyond friendly, his eyes studying every inch of her face as if he was trying to permanently engrain it in his memory.

"Okay, I think it's about time I cut you off. This is a little too much charming, even for you, Witt." She smiled, and his lower lip immediately jutted into a pout.

"C'mon, I just missed my girl, is that so bad?" he whined, looking at her with wide puppy-dog eyes.

A small sigh left her lips. "It is when I'm not your girl anymore, El," she said quietly, keeping her gaze down.

He frowned, and this time it was more sincere than the pout he'd just been giving her. He slid his hand on top of hers, watching as he stroked his thumb over her skin, still smooth despite the way it was cracked and calloused in some places from being worked so hard. "You'll always be my girl."

They stayed like that for a few moments before she pulled her hand away, shaking her head. "Elliott, can we not do this right now? I just can't--"

"Yeah," he breathed quickly, pushing himself from the bar. "I can just go. Come back tomorrow and all that."

"No!" she blurted, looking up at him. "I mean… It's your bar. You don't have to do that. Besides, I'm off in like ten minutes. Why don't you come back to mine. As friends, I mean. I've missed having you around."

He nodded slowly, secretly hoping she had moved during his absence because he didn't know how he'd handle going back there. But he knew she hadn't. She loved her apartment. She had poured her heart and soul into making it a home.

"Yeah," he breathed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "I'd like that."


	2. The Apartment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I wasn't planning on updating this so soon because I don't have a lot of this story stocked up to post, and it usually takes me a while to think of new stuff, but today I was having a bad day so I really needed to write some fluffy angst. Or angsty fluff, whatever way you want to look at it.  
> Also, this was shorter than I had hoped, and I feel like that might persist throughout the next couple of chapters... I hope you enjoy it anyway!

She pulled two beers from a six-pack in her fridge, popping the tops off and walking back over to where Elliott had already taken a seat on her couch. Sure, he'd already had plenty to drink back at the bar, but she definitely needed to get some alcohol in her system if they were going to be together again like this. It would be rude not to offer him one too.

She held a bottle out to him and he quirked an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he reached for it. Their fingers brushed again as they had earlier in the night, and he could feel how cold hers still were from the trip back to her apartment. He wished he could have held her hand again as they walked. He wished he could just take her in his arms again.

"You're a bartender, and all you're offering me is a beer?" he teased, attempting to hide his feelings behind a façade of jokes and charm like he usually did.

She scoffed and toed her shoes off, kicking them somewhere to the side of the couch. "If you wanted me to make you a fruity little cocktail you should have asked when we were still at the bar," she retorted and flashed him a smirk as she plopped down on the couch beside him. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table and pointed her beer bottle back toward the kitchen. "Besides, you're the best bartender I know. If you want to make yourself a drink, have at it."

He smirked and draped one arm across the back of the couch. "Are you trying to flatter me? My ego is big enough as it is," he hummed before taking a sip of his beer.

She laughed, shaking her head and jabbing him lightly in the stomach, causing him to let out a small _oof_ before breaking into a fit of laugher.

_Damn._

He had really toned up since he'd left. Not that he wasn't before, but now he was _built_. She could tell by the way his biceps strained against the sleeves of his t-shirt, something she hadn't noticed in the bar as he'd had his jacket on. She cleared her throat and turned away, taking a long drink of her beer in an attempt to drown out the thoughts. The rumble of his laugh made her cheeks warm, and she wished the was cuddling up to him so she could feel it again. When his laugh died down they sat in silence for a few minutes, comfortable in each other's company again.

Elliott found himself looking around the living room, and it was exactly how he remembered it. A TV was perched on the mantle straight ahead of where they sat, an unlit fireplace occupying the space beneath it. She'd never turned it on. The pilot light was out, and she said she didn't want to spend the money having someone come out to look at it.

 _I don't really mind, anyway,_ she had said, her hands pushing up underneath his shirt and roaming along the tanned skin there, _you warm me up just fine._

He took another sip of his beer and dropped his gaze to the coffee table which held a stack of magazines, unable to help the smile that made its way to his lips. Even the magazines were the same. She'd cancelled her subscriptions after he convinced her that there was no need to get magazines anymore.

_You can get all of that stuff online now. Usually for free!_

_Fine, but I'm keeping these just to spite you_.

He spotted a magazine that wasn't part of the usual pile and raised an eyebrow. Curiously, he looked down at her, and when he saw her eyes were closed in content he nudged the pile with his shoe to see if he could glimpse the publication. It wasn't one of her usuals, probably something she'd picked up at a press stand. His breath hitched when he read the headline: "Rookie Mirage Wins First Championship." It was accompanied by a picture of him, his arms slung over Bloodhound and Lifeline's shoulders.

He moved the pile back into place and continued to look around, blinking away some tears forming in his eyes. Why was he crying? Was it the memory of his first win? Or was it the thought that she still cared about him enough to buy a magazine with his win on the front page? He couldn't be sure. He took a breath and looked at the collage of photos on the wall by her front door, her smile brightening up each picture of her and her friends.

 _Elliot!_ she had groaned as soon as he closed the door. They both watched as a photo fell slowly to the floor, and he bent down to pick it up.

 _What? I'm telling you, this putty stuff doesn't work! Just pin them up or something_ , he'd protested, pushing the picture back up against the wad of mounting putty still stuck to the wall.

 _And I've told you that they would be fine if you would just quit slamming the door!_ She had jabbed her finger into his chest accusatorily. _And I don't want to have to fill in all those holes just to get my deposit back!_

 _Tell you what_ , he had started, wrapping his hand around the finger that was still pressing against his chest, _you let me slam the door all I want, and I'll fill the holes_ _,_ he had proposed with a wink, reaching down and hoisting her up. Whatever she had been about to say -- probably something to jab back at his innuendo -- was lost as she let out a squeal of surprise. He'd laughed, turning them around and pressing her against the door as he captured her lips in a fervent kiss. Three more photos fluttered off the wall and to the floor.

His throat was beginning to feel choked up and he quickly looked away from the pictures as he noticed that she had, in fact, pinned them all up. He took a shaky breath and looked to the other side of the door.

 _Fuck_.

She even had two key hooks still up on the wall.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. Everything he looked at made him feel like an absolute asshole for leaving her.

"I missed you," she finally whispered, breaking the silence that had begun to feel more and more deafening by the second. She leaned her head on his chest and he let his arm fall from the back of the couch to wrap around her shoulders, both of them falling back into a pattern of actions that used to be routine.

He gave her a gentle squeeze, opening his eyes and looking down at her. "I know," he admitted, and before he could stop himself from saying something that would make him feel like even more of a jerk, he rushed out, "I read all your letters."

She frowned and turned a bit so she could look up at him. "Then why did you never write me back?"

He tore his gaze away from her quickly, biting down on his lips in a way he did when he was nervous but didn't know what to say -- which was extremely rare. "Because… I thought that if I didn't then you would fo-forg-forget about me. That you would let yourself move on," he said quietly.

She stayed silent for a few seconds before grabbing his bottle and setting both drinks on the coffee table. One of her legs swung across his so she was straddling him, and she cupped his face in her hands. She took a moment to notice how much his face had changed, and her thumb stroked over the large scar on his right cheek. "You know I could never do that," she said gently, her voice wavering.

His hands settled on her waist and he let his fingers trail over the bare patch of skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. "I know," he sighed, leaning his head into her hand, "but I--"

"No," she choked out, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut. "I hoped every day that you would come home. That I wouldn't have to see you die. Do you have any idea how hard that was? That's why I didn't--" she cut herself off, turning her head away as she felt a tear start to roll down her cheek.

He brought a hand up to cup her jaw and gently turned her face back toward him. He wiped her tear away with his thumb before moving his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her close so he could kiss her.

"I know," he said again, causing her to let out a small sob against his lips. "I know, and I'm so sorry."

She sniffled, pressing her forehead against his. "But you aren't staying." It wasn't a question. She already knew the answer.

He shook his head, taking one of her hands in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I can't."


	3. The Bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've had a pretty rough week because my entire state is on fire right now, so I really needed to write something to make me feel better. So here you go, a short little fluffy flashback chapter. I'm not sure how to make it super obvious that a chapter is a flashback other than just doing it here, so if you have any suggestions I would enjoy them. (I just don't really love doing huge blocks of text or entire chapters in italics. I'm not a fan of that style for my own writing.)  
> I'm planning on posting another chapter sometime this weekend!

"That's not fair!" she squealed, her hands pushing against Elliott's chest in an attempt to get him off of her.

"What?" he laughed, his fingers continuing to dig into her sides to tickle her relentlessly. "That I'm stronger than you? That I'm not as ticklish as you? That I didn't fall for your act of getting on top of me and pretending like you were gonna kiss me and then just tickle me again?" his fingers moved to her stomach, and he grinned at the way she threw her head back with a loud laugh.

"Please, El, stop!" she squeaked, and he did, finding himself a bit out of breath as well. He planted his hands on the pillow on either side of her head, kissing her before she had any time to recover. A breathy moan left her lips and she hit her fist against his chest, barely any force against it. "That," she breathed when he finally pulled away, and his heart fluttered at the way she was pouting up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "That's not fair. The fact that-- that you can just _do that_ to me," she groaned, throwing both arms over her eyes in defeat.

He sat back on his heels and laughed again, unable to wipe the grin off of his face. "Get you all weak with just one look?" he hummed, slowly trailing his hands up her legs. "Make you all hot and bothered just by kissing you?" he teased, leaning down again and letting his lips hover over hers. "Get you all frustrated by teasing you like this?" He pressed his lips against her neck, beginning to trail kisses so delicate up and down the sensitive skin that it tickled her in a whole new way.

"Gods, yes, all of it," she breathed, tangling a hand in his curls and tipping her head back to expose more of her neck to him. "'S just not fair."

He chuckled deeply against her collarbone, kissing back up and giving her a peck on the lips. "I dunno, I like it," he teased with a smirk as he trailed his hands back down her waist. "I like catching you off guard." He punctuated the sentence by tickling her again, and she let out a laugh that sounded more like a scream, and both of their laughter filled the room again.

"Elliott!"


	4. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this out earlier than this and make it longer but oh well, it's here now! Also I suck at titling my chapters please don't hate me thanks <3

"That's not fair," she choked out, burying her face in the crook of his neck to hide her tears. His hand came up to stroke her hair and she whimpered. "I just want to have you for a little longer," she said, the words muffled against his skin. "I cried for days when you left."

The admission broke his heart a bit and he turned his head to press his lips against her temple. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, his other hand rubbing up and down her back. He missed moments like this, moments where he could just hold her. He hated the fact that he was the one who made her feel so terrible.

"I tried to call you," she continued, attempting to focus on the way his hand felt on her back, "but the connection was always so shitty that it never reached you. And when I never heard from you I thought there might have been a reason you left without saying goodbye."

His movements stopped and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't think like that." He held her tighter. "I wanted to call you. I wanted to so bad, but my con-cosn-consh-- I just couldn't." He looked down at her, gently coaxing her head away from where it was still pressed into his neck. "Let's not talk about this right now, okay? I didn't come back to talk about why I left."

She nodded, ducking her head and reaching up to wipe away her tears.

He leaned down and kissed the spot below her ear. "Let me take you to bed," he whispered, moving his hands down beneath her thighs.

She quickly shook her head. "You should go see your mom," she whispered, a wave of guilt washing over her. She knew how much Elliott cared for his mother and how she was really the only family he had left. She didn't want to keep him from her on his first day back. "She probably misses you."

She doesn't even remember who I am.

A lump formed in his throat. She didn't know his mother was the reason he went to the games. He never talked about his mother with anyone. She didn't know that his mother didn't recognize him anymore. She didn't even know that his mother was sick.

"It's fine," he lied, "I caught up with her before I went to the bar. She won't miss me for one night." The last part was true. He squeezed her legs. "Let's go to bed," he said again, and he picked her up before she could protest.

She looped her arms around his neck as he carried her through the small apartment, and she rested her chin on his shoulder to keep herself from staring at him. When they reached the bedroom he set her on her feet and she began shimmying out of her jeans. She turned to throw them in the direction of her clothes hamper.

"Will you stay?" she asked, and when she turned back toward him she saw he was already in the process of pulling off his shirt. She smiled, and a blush rose to her cheeks as she noted the way the moonlight accentuated his muscles while he undressed. She finished removing her clothes and retrieved his shirt from the floor, pulling it on as she climbed into bed. She laid on her side and closed her eyes, trying to curb the feelings that were bubbling up inside her.

Stop it. You can't let him back into your life like this when you know he's going to leave again.

He glanced at her as he moved toward the bed and he bit down on his lip. He wanted her. So bad. But he knew he would have to wait.

Be patient, and maybe she'll forgive you.

Not like you deserve it.

The bed dipped beside her and he draped an arm across her waist. "This okay?" he whispered, pulling the covers up over their bodies.

She hummed in approval, moving back closer to him and relaxing against his body.

He smiled and held her tighter. "Get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning. Promise."

She nodded and let out a tired sigh, but opened her eyes and stared out the window into the night of the city. The buildings were lit up by the moon and the lights of windows belonging to tireless souls.

But one day you won't.

* * *

The sunlight shining directly onto her face made her groan, and she threw her arm over her eyes. When she was awake enough to feel somewhat aware of her surroundings, she looked around her room and her chest tightened when she didn't see Elliott in bed next to her, nor did she see his clothes on the floor.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time he's broken a promise.

She brought her pillow to her face and groaned loudly into it. They hadn't even had sex and he slipped away without saying goodbye.

Again.

Maybe he'd had second thoughts. Maybe he realized that he should have stayed away when he left months ago.

She looked down and noticed she was still wearing his shirt. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself and she tried to will away a wave of tears she felt forming. Part of her felt bad at the thought that he might have had to leave without his shirt, and she hoped it wasn't one he liked too much that she would have to face him when he came back to get it.

She threw her pillow at the window in frustration and flung the covers off of her, heading to the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face to wake herself up and then brushed her teeth and washed her face in an attempt to pull herself together. When she finished her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten dinner the night before. She sighed and trudged to the kitchen, the cold floor chilling her bare feet. The smell of something cooking caught her attention and she looked up, her heart skipping a beat.

Elliott was standing at the stove, cooking something that smelled incredible, especially to her hungry stomach. His muscles flexed and relaxed as he cooked, tanned skin stretched across a deliciously muscled torso.

"You gonna just stand there and look, or are you gonna come over here, sweetheart?" He shot her a wink over his shoulder and she blushed at the realization that she'd been caught staring.

"You're still here," she said without thinking, though her voice was barely above a whisper.

He still heard her, though, and he frowned slightly as he turned fully toward her this time. "Of course I am. I promised, didn't I?"

She chewed on her lip, looking away from his intense stare. "I mean, can you blame me for not thinking you kept your promise?"

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter. She was right, he knew that, and there wasn't really anything good he could say. "Look, I know, but I…" he trailed off, rubbing a hand over his beard and looking away in frustration. "I'm not going to do it again."

She pressed her lips together and looked back at him, her mouth settling into a frown. "You're right, you won't. 'Cause I already know you're going back to the games. I already know you don't want to settle down or stay with one person for too long. But you're still here… and you're making breakfast in my fucking kitchen." Her voice broke and she looked away, crossing her arms and bringing one hand up to cover her mouth. She closed her eyes and shook her head before returning her gaze to him. Her voice was much softer now. "What are we doing here, El?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. His face had softened, and she couldn't read his expression. The thought made her heart ache. He took a breath and looked toward the ceiling, shaking his head. "I… I don't know…"


	5. An Update

Hey everyone,

Apologies that this fic has taken on an impromptu hiatus. I was planning on working on it over break, but I wasn't able to for multiple reasons.  
1\. My break was much busier than I anticipated.  
2\. I need to be in the right headspace to work on this fic, and I didn't really have that a lot.  
3\. Inspiration simply wasn't striking, and I'm not going to write when I'm not inspired. I don't want to provide anything less than what I deem is worthy of your reading.  
School has started back up for me, and the spring semester is always busier than the fall, so I'm not sure when I will be able to work on this again. I'd like to thank you for sticking around, and I promise I'm not throwing this fic away! I love what I've written so far and I have many other bits and pieces already written, now it's just about writing the scenes that weave them all together.  
Again, thank you, and hopefully I'll have something new for you to read in the not-so-distant future! :)


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